


Corps-à-corps

by lovelydarkanddeep



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Anon Prompt, F/M, Fencing, Fencing AU, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelydarkanddeep/pseuds/lovelydarkanddeep
Summary: Corps-à-corps: This refers to bodily contact between two fencers, and is considered an illegal move in both foil and saber fencing.- - -Or anon prompt for: Modern sports AU where Rey and Kylo are coaches on Rival teams (like First Order vs Rebels), but are secretly in a relationship? Their teams find out or they get caught.





	Corps-à-corps

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone, please appreciate this title

**Corps-à-corps:** This refers to bodily contact between two fencers, and is considered an illegal move in both foil and saber fencing.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mara, lift that blade higher, you _know_ not to deviate.”

 

The girl does as she’s told, eyeing where her opponent stands across from her on the piste, bouncing on the balls of his feet delicately. He feints, but Mara reads him well. They draw back, and Rey shakes her head.

 

“Talon, I am _not_ going to tell you again to watch your grip.”

 

He nods, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there in respect for his Master. Again, he feints, not budging Mara an inch.

 

“Quarte,” Rey hisses to herself as she watches the two.

 

Mara sees it too, the slight hole in his defensive. She makes an advance, followed by a swift lunge, not hesitating.

 

“Point. Fifteen and match.”

 

Mara cheers, while Talon annoyedly pulls off his face mask. He grudgingly extends a sweaty hand to Mara to shake. She does, before bouncing away to the showers.

 

Rey cocks her head as Talon descends from the piste, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

 

“Hey, she’s a level above you and you held your own against her - almost _won_. Don’t beat yourself up so much.”

 

He nods, wiping at his face with his arm.

 

“I just feel like I should’ve progressed more than this by now.”

 

Rey smiles, pulling him in for a slight side-hug.

 

“Everyone thinks that at some point, Talon. The Bigs like Skywalker and Kenobi did too.”

 

Talon eventually nods, wiping at his face again.

 

“I still can’t believe that Skywalker taught _you_ , Master. And now you’re teaching _me_.”

 

He grins up at her, excited. She laughs.

 

“Maybe you’ll get to meet him one day, Talon. But for now, hit the showers - you stink.”

 

He laughs along with her, before nodding with a humourous “Yes, Master”. Rey watches him leave, before turning to where her higher level students are practicing.

 

“Nice!” she calls out to a student who makes a rather well-timed stop hit, before moving on.

 

The end doors to the room open, and she stiffens slightly as an annoyingly familiar form appears.

 

Dressed all in black, his hair a luscious mess about his head, Kylo Ren sends her a sarcastic wink from where he sees her staring. Flushing, she turns away, back ramrod straight, determined to ignore the man. Yet she can feel him watching her, can feel his dark gaze on her as she makes her way from mat to mat surveying her students.

 

He comes up behind her, radiating heat and smelling of sandalwood and citrus. She ignores him, fists clenched - tries to focus on her students.

 

“Sophie, don’t break that form again!” Rey chastises, the words coming out sounding more strangled than they are meant to because of Kylo’s proximity ( _it has her unsettled_ ). The girl ends up distracted by Rey’s critique and loses the point to the girl across from her.

 

“A bit on edge today, are we, Rey?”

 

The words are spoken in a deep timber, and she shivers involuntarily. She can practically _see_ his resulting smirk.

 

“Want me to help you with that? Take the edge off?”

 

These words are spoken quietly, in a red-hot whisper steeped in promise. His body pressing into her ever-so-slightly from behind her.

 

Rey steps away, sending him a glare.

 

“Just because you’re a coach here too doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass again,” Rey snarls, reminding him of the moment she bested him in practice in front of all her students.

 

Instead of looking angry, he looks at her with something akin to anticipation.

 

“You do like my ass, don’t you?”

 

Rey sneers before walking away from the man and focusing once more on her students. As she continues to instruct them, ever-patient and diligent, Kylo’s own students start to trickle through the door.

 

Though they both teach fencing at the same fencing academy in Coruscant, Kylo and Rey’s teaching styles could not be more different.

 

His style of fencing was labeled  _The First Order_. He taught offensive, bold maneuvers, with emphasis on strength, cunning, and power. His fencers were older, serious about the sport, and conditioned constantly. They ended up becoming Olympic champions, winning national and international competitions.

 

Rey taught the younger, newer students through the Resistance style, though all of them were at least 16. She emphasized form and basics, starting slowly and building to a sense of equal parts intuition and judgment. Her fencers might not be as intense, but they had won many a bout against Kylo’s own students because of their tenacity, grit, and leveled-thinking.

 

As more of Kylo's students gathered, Rey clapped her hands, immediately halting all her students in their places.

 

“Good work today, everyone. Equipment away, gear in the laundry, and then _showers_.”

 

A chorus of “Yes, Master” rings out, before they hasten to do as she bids.

 

She starts to remove her own outer gear, when-

 

“ _Rey_."

 

She pauses, before turning slightly, raising a brow rather annoyedly. Kylo stands with his hands behind his back, smug.

 

“I need you to help me demonstrate an effective _fleche_ with the foil.”

 

The words are not just a request - they’re a challenge.

 

She grits her teeth slightly, before nodding to him.

 

“Fine, then.”

 

* * *

 

 Fifteen minutes later, and what was supposed to be a simple demonstration has turned into a full-on bout.

 

The two give as much as they take, panting and sweaty. Both classes of their students cheer from the sidelines, showers and training forgotten for the sake of watching two Master fencers face one another.

 

“It’s been a while, Rey,” Kylo manages to get out, while parrying her lunge.

 

“Yes - you’re out of shape, aren’t you?” Rey mocks back, lunging again, only to have Kylo score a point against her.

 

She curses, lifting up her mask to gasp in a breath of cool air before lowering it again.

 

“My body’s in prime condition…how’s yours?”

 

She grits her teeth and does an intense Balestra before lunging, earning her a point in return.

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later and they’ve come to a draw.

 

Rey shucks off her mask, watching as Kylo does the same. Somehow, though sweaty, he looks as if he’s about to pose for some photoshoot.

 

Rey bites at her lip in anger, before wincing. Gingerly, she prods at her bottom lip, finding it wet with a bit of blood.

 

“You okay?” she hears Kylo ask, stepping closer to her. She nods casually in response.

 

“I think I bit my lip during the bout.”

 

He crowds her, in her space. She throws him a warning look.

 

“Here, we need to clean it,” he mutters, stepping down from the piste and offering her one large, gloved hand.

 

Rey’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, but she takes it, gingerly hopping down.

 

“Go practice!” Kylo growls to his students, who hasten to do as he bids. “And shower!” Rey adds on to her own students, casting them a reproachful look before ducking past Kylo and entering into the smaller locker rooms reserved for the coaches.

 

The door closes shut behind them. **Locked**.

 

She drops the act.

 

“‘ _My body’s in prime condition, how’s yours?’_ ” Rey asks with barely-concealed humour as she rummages through the first-aid bin. Kylo smirks from where he’s leaning against the lockers.

 

“Rhetorical question. I’ve seen it enough to know the answer.”

 

Rey pauses, raising a brow as a smile curves its way across her lips.

 

“So daring today, Master Ren.”

 

He prowls towards her, his look making her stomach clench with anticipation.

 

He’s still a foot away from her when she practically leaps at him, crashing her lips to his as his hands move to pull her against his body. They’re both sweaty, flushed, but neither cares, their lips hungrily enmeshed and hands rampant. Somehow, they manage to get him out of his fencing gear together.

 

He only pulls away when both of them are gasping for air, one last swipe of his tongue across her bottom lip where she had bitten herself. Between them, Rey feels the hard length of him prod at her stomach.

 

“Is that your sabre, or are you happy to see me?” Rey purrs, a hand coming to rest on his chest as she cranes her neck to look up at him. Kylo smirks in response, gazing down at her with unabashed lust.

 

“ _En garde_.”

 

A laugh leaves her lips - it's a purely sensual sound. She reaches her hand down to trace her thumbnail over the crest of his hip, teasing and slow.

 

“I was giving a lesson on gripping today,” she murmurs to him, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

 

“Were you?” His answering smile is pur  _sin_.

 

“ _Mmm_ ,” Rey hums in response, taking him in hand, stroking him ever so lightly. He shudders against her, pulling his lip into his mouth.

 

“Keep a firm grip at all times,” she murmurs, tightening her hand around him, stroking more determinedly, grazing over the head of him and spreading the precum that beads there around his shaft. He bucks into her hand, hips snapping.

 

She’s done this many times before ( _in this room, even_ ) - knows exactly how and where to stroke to have him shaking for her. She lets her hand speed up, pumping him faster,  _faster_. He groans, burying a hand in her hair, the other spanning the side of her waist, thumb brushing just below her breast.

 

“And _never_ let go of the pommel until you’re ready to release.”

 

She smiles smugly as he grabs at her chin, pulling her into a brutal kiss as he finishes, moaning into her mouth, his spend covering her hand.

 

She pulls away from his lips, wipes her hand on a spare training towel while he catches his breath and tucks himself back into his pants. She presses a kiss to the area just beneath his jaw, tender and sensitive, before giving it a slight nip.

 

Rey makes to move away from him but his arms close around her tightly, pulling her back to him.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls playfully in her ear.

 

He spins her around, pulling her in by her hips and setting her on the ledge. He works at her pants, pulling them down to her ankles (assisted by her kicking), discarding them somewhere.

 

She captures his mouth in a hot, aching kiss, her hands sliding against his chest as he kneads at her backside. Sighing against his mouth, she cards a hand through his hair, tightening her grip to bring him closer. Chuckling slightly, he pushes aside her boyshort sport panties, admiring how they cling to her in vain.

 

“Believe it or not, I gave a lesson on gripping today, too,” Kylo breathes, just as he slides two fingers into her. She gives easily around him, _very_ wet and _very_ willing. He adds another.

 

Rey breathes a moan into his shoulder, forehead pressed there. He begins to slowly pump in and out of her, bringing her ever higher with each slow and steady thrust. His hands are goddamn _magic_.

 

“The manipulators should be flush against the _petite cussion,”_ he drawls to her, as his thumb presses against her swollen clit. She whines at the contact, writhes against him harder, his slick thumb swirling about madly.

 

“And the remaining digits should curl around the grip for maximum _effect_.”

 

His fingers curl inside her, brushing against her G-spot. She spasms - gasping,  _shaking_.

 

A few more pumps of his hand, working her clit and brushing _that_ spot, and she cums hard around his fingers. She struggles to breathe, to return from her ascent, but is consumed in a haze of dopamine and heat.

 

“ _Et fin_ ,” he breathes against her lips, smug.

 

* * *

 

Outside the locker rooms, the First Order and Resistance students stand in shock, having expected to hear bickering and squabbling coming from the locker room.

 

Instead….

 

They all glance about and then head off to their classes, not breathing one word about how their fencing Masters fucked in the locker room.

 

This is one lesson they _won’t_ forget. 

**Author's Note:**

> No, for real, please appreciate the title
> 
> (I might do a preface to this - how Rey and Kylo met and how they trained under Luke and went to competitions and such. With smut. IDK though...)


End file.
